


after the rain

by permitwinter



Series: weather [3]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Aftermath, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Hallucinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/permitwinter/pseuds/permitwinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orihara Izaya is and always will be eternally intangible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	after the rain

_Summer is what one would expect; hot and sunny; rays of gold burning flesh and bone and skin and his blood boils, but it’s not because of the astronomical object, rather anger and embarrassment; humiliation is what has his brains melt into something he can’t think with anymore, and it’s because he can’t think straight that he runs and runs and runs, always and ever, and never touches, because Orihara Izaya is and always will be eternally intangible._

_Still, the sun is scalding hot. The heat is unbearable and it hurts it hurts it hurts_ DAMMIT _!_ _He’s on fire; his lower body is on fire. Flames are licking his hips and his thighs and his knees and his shins and his ankles and –it hurts. Why is all he can feel hot, burning pain? Hot, burning fire. Or maybe it’s more like having a hundred a thousand a million of Izaya’s knives cutting and slicing and stabbing him, all at once, hot burning metal on cracked skin reaching for dry bones and going straight through them.- it hurts._

_._

 

Heiwajima Shizuo wakes up with a splitting headache; a hammer continuously hits his cerebral cortex and sharp needles stick into his forebrain. It’s hot and he’s sweating, beads turning into droplets and it’s dripping off his face, wetting the grass that itches his skin, but he can’t scratch because he can’t move, and that’s when he realises it.

(It?

_Everything.)_

He’s dead; he must be. This is hell and here he is; burning. He’s on fire, he knows this. It’s the reason why he can see neither darkness nor light.

It’s the reason why he’s in pain without actually feeling anything.

It’s the reason why–

But that would make absolutely no sense. It must be the pain; why he can’t think straight, and he slowly opens his lids.

He is not ready for what he sees.

 

 

.

 

 

Izaya’s eyes are cold and dead. Maybe once they gleamed and shone as bright, proud stars, but today is not a good day for him. His eyes are the same shade of red as the dried blood on his body, and Shizuo wonders if maybe there’s been a mistake. Maybe Destiny made a typo, maybe Fate was sleep deprived when she wrote that this would happen. Surely there’s been a mistake–

 

‘’Don’t look at me like that, Shizu-chan.’’

 

Izaya’s alive.

Thank God.

What?

 

‘’Like what, flea?’’

Like what, indeed?

 

‘’Like I’m dead and that pains you.’’

 

Oh. So _he_ has made a mistake.

Then–

 

‘’Do you know where we are, Shizu-chan?’’

‘’ _Something_ must have shocked you, somehow, but please pay attention to your surroundings for a minute. Surely you’ll be (even more) surprised.’’

 

And Shizuo does what he’s told, not because he’s told to but because something in Izaya’s voice is wrong. The way it shakes and trembles so slightly, so softly, yet so unmistakably. Maybe he shouldn’t be able to pick up this tiny detail, this tiny difference, but when he looks around him he sees it.

(It?

Everything has changed, and yet nothing has. Nothing changed, and yet everything did.)

 

He’s lying in a hospital; they’re lying in a hospital. It’s the bedsheets he wetted with sweat ~~and tears~~ and it’s the bedsheets he’s so tightly tucked in with that he can’t move. Izaya’s lying in the bed beside him. He isn’t tucked in at all –has the sheets barely covering his pale body and white convalescents- and he’s lying on his left side. An IV is attached to his right arm, in it clear yet translucent liquid.

 

Shizuo wants to say something. He wants to ask many things such as; what happened? Why are we here? What did I do? What did you do? What went wrong? What _didn’t_ go wrong? And most importantly; do you still hate me?

He says: ‘’Why aren’t you dead?’’

 

Izaya laughs at that. (The uncertainty Shizuo has imagined –because surely it was his imagination; surely Izaya wouldn’t allow his voice to shake and tremble, and if he did then with intent- just minutes ago gone without a trace.) Somehow it sounds pained, but then again, with Izaya everything is painful. Often for all parties involved.

He stops as sudden as he started. ‘’Why do you ask, Shizu-chan?’’

 

Why does he ask? Isn’t that obvious? Does the flea return the question because it’s obvious, or is he really so stupid, so ignorant? (Or does he want to be?) Shizuo is no good at figuring people out but he can say for a certain it’s the former. (Because, if it’s the latter then–)

 

‘’Does Shizu-chan remember what happened? Don’t tell me his protozoan brain is so small and tiny it can’t hold such important information!’’ And Izaya is giggling gleefully.

 

‘’Of course I remember!’’

Is a lie, and

‘’Stop laughing like a maniac, it’s creeping me out, flea.’’

is a lie, and

Shizuo thinks Izaya thinks Shizuo’s too stupid to lie, so it’s okay he sucks at it.

 

‘’Sure you do, Shizu-chan~.’’

 

 

.

 

 

By the time the nurse comes, Shizuo has –passed out due to the pain and- woken up again. Izaya’s gone; he probably snuck out through the window. _He_ seemed to be doing perfectly fine. Shizuo, on the other hand.

 

‘’Heiwajima-san, you look better today.’’ The nurse smiles. She does, she really does. Even though, or maybe because, Shizuo broke two hips and two legs and two knees and two ankles and they’re all his. It’s been years since he broke his own bones and he would feel nostalgic if it didn’t suck such a big time. Alas, it does. By this time he has also figured out he had been strapped to the bed and the reason he can’t control his muscles now is because the medication doesn’t allow him to.

 

The worst thing though, is

Shizuo doesn’t doubt he’s in this shape because of Izaya, hell, he’s friggin’ certain. It hurts that he can’t remember what happened but the fact Izaya isn’t even a little bit injured hurts his heart and his pride. Here he is, the so-called strongest man of Ikebukuro, tied to a hospital bed –and even if he weren’t, too weak to escape anyway- while Izaya, seemingly strong but supposedly way more brittle than him, just jumped out of the window. Or walked through the door. In any case, left. Left a bedridden Shizuo behind, and that hurts for far more reasons than Shizuo can or cares to explain.

 

 

.

 

 

[Are you sad?]

 

No. No, I’m not, Shizuo thinks. He doesn’t think it’s a funny question to ask in their situation or these circumstances. Celty’s always cared about him and the feeling is mutual.

 

‘’No.’’ He says.

 

[Do you want to talk about it?]

 

‘’Yes,’’ He says, screams. ‘’Yes, tell me what the hell happened!’’

Except he doesn’t say or scream so. He just shakes his head.

‘’I want to forget it.’’ He says, but he means ‘’remember’’, he really does.

 

[If that’s what you want.]

[Though I do think it’s impossible, if not irresponsible.]

[It’s not fair, either.]

 

Celty’s unsure but she types out her thoughts anyway.

 

‘’Doesn’t matter.’’ Shizuo says and he thinks of Izaya stealing _his_ IV with in it _his_ morphine.

 

 

.

 

 

‘’Nii-san.’’

 

‘’Ah, Kasuka. Sorry to worry you.’’

 

‘’It’s okay, nii-san.’’

 

‘’No, really. I’m sorry, Kasuka.’’

 

‘’It’s okay, nii-san.’’

 

‘’Ah, I guess.’’

‘’So, ehm, how are you doing, Kasuka?’’

 

‘’Fine, nii-san. Thank you.’’

 

‘’…’’

 

‘’I’ll pay you back the hospital bills as soon as I can.’’

 

 

.

 

 

‘’Tom-senpai, Vorona. Sorry to worry you.’’

 

‘’It’s okay, Shizuo-kun.’’

 

‘’Affirmative. Your disability, while unfortunate and unnecessary, is forgivable.’’

 

 

.

 

 

‘’What the hell are you doing here, flea?’’

 

‘’Why, haunting you, of course!’’ Izaya is laughing. It’s soft and it chimes like church bells during a funeral. ‘’Don’t you miss me, Shizu-chan?’’

 

Always and ever.

 

‘’Why the hell should I miss you? You’re a pest I can’t get rid of!’’ If Shizuo wasn’t so damn tired all the time, no, scratch that, even if he weren’t so damn tired all the while, he would still want to choke the life out of the flea, but since he’s unable to do so, it maddens him only more. It’s almost humiliating.

 

He’s been, consciously, in the hospital for a total of four weeks; longer than ever before. Unconsciously –or subconsciously?-, for _over_ a month. Apparently he wasn’t in a coma, but wouldn’t wake up, either. Shinra claimed or explained it with a lot of difficult terms –some English no doubt, too- and needless to say Shizuo didn’t listen or care. Now, though, staying in the same room for so long starts to grow on his nerves. The thing is, since his hips broke, too –and how the hell did he manage that?- he can’t sit in a wheelchair either, hence why he has to stay for such a damn long time.

 

It’s good he gets visitors so every now and then.

Unfortunately Izaya is one of them, and the flea visits every three days.

Every

Fucking

_Three_

Days

.

 

He won’t ever admit it’s Izaya who keeps boredom at bay. He won’t ever admit it’s Izaya who amuses him, entertains him, makes these days of lying in bed and looking at the wall opposite to him better by allowing him to look at Izaya, instead. He won’t ever admit he enjoys the flea’s company. Enjoys it when Izaya recites him random pages of his favourite books –and how the hell does the louse even memorise it all?- or poems or haikus. Enjoys it when he tells Shizuo about his days or about his work –which is so much shadier than he’d ever imagined- or about his secretary, and sometimes, seldom, about his sisters. Izaya tells him stories, fictional and personal and Shizuo will never admit he prefers the latter.

 

‘’Ha! Shizu-chan must be bored if he’s so moody. Shall I sing a song for him?’’

 

‘’Don’t even start.’’

 

Izaya does, anyway, of course. It doesn’t even sound too bad, not that Shizuo would _ever_ admit that, but why does it have to be about double-suicide? If Izaya wants to inspire/trigger/brainwash Shizuo, it isn’t working. At all.

 

He closes his eyes and lets Izaya sing him to sleep.

 

 

.

 

 

When Shizuo wakes up he is told he can be discharged.

 

‘’Isn’t that wonderful, Shizu-chan?’’

 

Fucking fantastic.

 

Outside the sky cries

緑雨

りょくう

early summer rain

_‘’Spring is coming.’’ Izaya says and he knows spring will be gone before he can say it again. It doesn’t matter; he doesn’t need to. It does pain him he can’t see the cherry blossom anymore. (It doesn’t matter; he’ll be buried under one of those.)_

_He watches Shizuo –like he always does, always has, always will- jump right after him –no hesitation whatsoever- and his eyes widen in gleeful surprise._

_They are flying, just like birds._

He _breaks his spine and cracks his skull._

_Shizuo lands on his legs and lower body; he’s less lucky._

 

 

and –or because?- spring came and went

 

 

Summer is what one would expect; hot and sunny; rays of gold burning flesh and bone and skin and his blood boils, but it’s not because of the astronomical object, rather anger and embarrassment; humiliation is what has his brains melt into something he can’t think with anymore, and it’s because he can’t think straight that he runs and runs and runs, always and ever, and never touches, because Orihara Izaya is and always will be eternally intangible.

 

Like the ghost he is.

 

 

_‘’_ _さようなら_ _’’_

_._

_._

_._

雨上り

あまあがり

after the rain


End file.
